Our Father, Who Art in Heaven
by Syntactical
Summary: Even Alex has to crash sometimes; because, as she well knows, every Rider falls. A Father's Day special, taking place a few months in the future of Terms of Endearment.


_Goodnight, my angel, now it's time to sleep_ –_  
>And still so many things I want to say. <em>

_Remember all the songs you sang for me_  
><em> when we went sailing on an emerald bay?<em>  
><em> And, like a boat out on the ocean,<em>  
><em> I'm rocking you to sleep.<em>  
><em> The water's dark and deep<em>  
><em> inside this ancient heart –<em>  
><em> you'll always be a part of me.<em>

* * *

><p>He knew that something was wrong from the minute he stepped into the flat. It was too quiet, too dark. And while Wolf was by no means the cheeriest person around, it was gone half past one without a single opened window in sight. He set his things down – papers, mostly, he'd been called into the office for some post-deployment tidying up – and headed deeper into the flat. Usually, Alex would be spread out over the place with some project or other by now, and he could ask her what was going on.<p>

But she was nowhere in sight. A dull terror tried to settle into his gut, suspicion that SIS had come for her, or worse, some enemy she'd picked up on missions. He should – Wolf shook his head. There was no point in panicking before he even knew anything. He was just about to call her mobile when he caught a flash of movement coming from Kit's room. The door was open, so he entered quietly, somewhat uncertain. She was still in bed. Though he vaguely remembered something about teenagers needing a lot of sleep, Alex hadn't been the type to sleep in since he'd begun looking after her, and especially not this late.

He cleared his throat softly. "Kit?" When she didn't answer, he shook her shoulder. The knot of fear returned, so he risked turning on the bedside lamp. He caught her eyes shutting reflexively in response to the sudden brightness, so at least he knew she was alive – but it also meant she had been awake and hadn't responded, and that worried him even more. He laid a hand on her forehead, but he couldn't feel anything out of the ordinary. "Are you sick?"

Now that the light was on, he caught a glimmer of something on her cheek, which after a moment he realized was a tear. She was crying, so quietly he hadn't heard her. He froze, feeling completely out of his depth. For a kid, Alex played her feelings very close to her chest. Maybe he'd just found out where she'd been keeping them, and it tore at his heart in a way he couldn't describe. "_Alex_," he whispered. He wanted to do something, comfort her, but he wasn't sure how without knowing what was wrong (or, he thought grimly, _which_ of the thousand and one reasons Kit had for falling apart was the problem).

So instead, he sat beside her and rubbed her shoulder until he thought maybe the crying had subsided a little, even though it took a lot longer than he'd thought was possible. He squeezed her shoulder and found some tissues, but she didn't make any motion to take them. "You want to talk to me?" he asked, voice low. "Tell me what's wrong?" When she didn't say anything, he resorted to the lightest request he figured he could make of her. "At least get out of bed? I'll leave you alone if you want me to, but at least get out of bed and eat something. Have you eaten anything?"

More silence. He sighed and slipped out, hoping that maybe she'd take his suggestion better if he wasn't hovering over her. And when half an hour went by without an appearance, he called in the cavalry. Snake appeared twenty minutes later with Eagle in tow. When Wolf gave him a pointed look, Eagle just shrugged and muttered something about how he had nothing to do until dinner, anyway.

"Is she still in bed?" Snake asked quietly, and at the affirmative, he headed for Alex's bedroom. Before Eagle could follow, Wolf shot out a hand and grabbed him firmly by the arm.

"She's in bad shape," he warned Eagle, voice dangerously low. Eagle waited a beat, then nodded. Snake was probably best equipped to deal with this on his own, anyway.

* * *

><p>She wasn't trying to make things difficult.<p>

(At least, not consciously; on some level, maybe. Because she was a Rider, and they were nothing if not stubborn. But usually that trait came out in the face of death, not in the face of a dark room and an SAS soldier who was really just doing his best.)

But she just. _Couldn't_. Somehow, when she'd woken, an emptiness had settled into her chest, and when she thought about going through the motions of showering and breakfast and coursework, she just couldn't bring herself to bother. She wanted – she just _wanted_, desperately. She wanted to go to sleep and wake up and hear Ian arguing with Jack over her choice of music, and wander out sleepy-eyed and bed-headed and be greeted by the smell of Jack's under-ten-minute pancakes with strawberries Ian had brought back from some city or other. So she had shut her eyes, and pretended, and hadn't gotten out of bed.

Wolf had just made it hurt more. She had felt bad for not talking to him, but she just couldn't trust herself when he was in the room. And she thought she wouldn't be able to talk when Snake wandered in, either, but he just set a cup of hot chocolate by her bed and sat quietly by her bed.

For a long time, he didn't say anything, and neither did she. She thought about going back to sleep, but somehow the intent silence was putting her off, and the smell of the chocolate was reminding her that she hadn't eaten since the night before. After what felt like ages, she decided that she might as well drink it before it had a chance to get too cold, and with effort (more than it had any right to be, really), she sat up and cradled the warm mug in her hands.

Almost immediately, the tension in the room eased. Snake sat back in his chair with a relieved sigh, and she took a few cautious sips of the chocolate. Despite having been out to cool for god knew how long, the drink was still hot enough to be passable.

Snake let her enjoy it in silence for a minute before speaking. "James is worried." She looked up at him, then back down to the rim of her drink. "Are you going to talk to me, or are you going to keep at the mute act?"

She glanced away.

He let out a tired breath. "I'll make you a deal, then." He tapped the edge of the cup to get her attention. "We won't push you to talk until you're ready. But you _do_ have to eat, and you _do_ have to let at least one of us be in the room with you so we're here when you _are_ ready. Sound reasonable?"

After a moment, she nodded.

Things went a little better after that. Snake, as the member she felt the most comfortable with naturally, watched over her while she ate the soup and sandwich he provided. Then Eagle sauntered in with a cup of tea and spent his time regaling her with stories about the training she'd missed. To her relief, he didn't seem to require any sort of participation on her part – in fact, a mostly-recessed piece of her noted, he seemed to relish the chance to talk without interruption. After a couple hours, he left with a cheerful mention of dinner and a lady and promised to tell her all about it when he returned.

And then there was Wolf. It was painfully obvious that, despite whatever coaching Snake had tried to give him, he still had no idea what to do with himself. He paced and fidgeted and frowned at her when he thought she wasn't looking, and it wore on her nerves until she thought she couldn't stand it anymore and just had to say _something_, if only to make him stop.

It was harder than she'd thought to speak. Disuse had clogged up her voice, and she had to clear her throat before she could get the sound out properly. "I just – I miss him."

Wolf was by her side immediately, and to her relief, he caught on immediately without explanation. "Your uncle."

She nodded tightly, not sure if she could risk another sentence. Wolf hung about awkwardly for a moment and then, to her surprise, sat down on the bed next to her to pull her into his arms. She rested her head against him, utterly exhausted despite having spent the afternoon in bed. He just ran his hand through her hair, quietly waiting until she felt like talking again.

"It's not that you're not good," she said, eventually, "it's just that I wish I could have kept him. Or Dad, or – anyone. Instead of losing everyone."

Wolf tightened his hold on her and murmured _I know, Kit_ into her hair.

And there they stayed.

* * *

><p><em>Someday, we'll all be gone,<em>  
><em> but lullabies go on and on –<em>  
><em> they never die, that's how you and I<em>  
><em> will be.<em>


End file.
